


Let the Only Sound

by hotrodngold (Krystalicekitsu)



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Torture, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalicekitsu/pseuds/hotrodngold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve had drawn the short straw for surveillance, everyone figuring the O'Malley contingent too new to have made the connections necessary to out him. </p><p>What a fucking joke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the Only Sound

Steve can't help the gasp of pain when the brass knuckles connect with his cheek. The bone is already sore and tender from being pistol whipped with the butt of a very ugly Magnum .357, making a nice counter point to the hum of what he's fairly sure are seriously bruised, if not fractured, ribs.

"Come now, Mister 'Steven fucking McGarret'. 'is not that hard." A hand is fisted in his hair, his head hauled painfully upright. The ruddy face of Alex O'Malley regretfully swims into focus. Steve focuses on the small, triangular scar above his right eyebrow and away from blue eyes that are obviously enjoying the beating more for the violence than any perceived hope of gaining answers.

Steve already knows he's sunk; he doesn't need to live in the reality.

The reality goes like this:

Alex O'Malley, of the Boston O'Malley's, the same family of Irish O'Malleys trying very hard to get a foothold in the Asian black market suddenly making the West Coast a felon's playground. Though opium never hit off as well on the Mainland as it did in the East, or even in Hawai'i's own itinerant and native Chinese populations, the market wasn't nearly as heavily monitored nor harassed as the heroin coming up from Brazil and Mexico.

Hence the O'Malleys' interest in the trade, especially with Boston's own Chinatown recently experiencing a Triad power vacuum of such proportions that the local FBI and DEA offices were in a very good mood. Perpetually. Of course, it might also have something to do with one intrepid CI and the mountain of indictments so recently handed down.

With such a large, established, and demanding market, the O'Malley's were only happy to take up the slack.

Which led to the necessity of obtaining a supplier who wouldn't mind operating with the old power's rivals. Which, in turn, led them to Hawai'i and, again in turn, to Five-0's front door.

Steve'd drawn the short straw for surveillance, everyone figuring the O'Malley contingent too new to have made the connections necessary to out him.

What a fucking joke.

Another hit to the face with those fucking brass knuckles. Steve can't help the gasp of pain when the blow rips him, and some hair, free of O'Malley's grip.

"C'mon, Mister Five-oh. Where. Are. Your. Friends."

Steve spits out a mouthful of blood. He thinks he can feel his eye beginning to swell. Shit. Loss of depth perception significantly reduces the chance of a successful escape.

He needs to change something, some variable.

He opens his mouth.

And feels O'Malley lean in and abruptly changes his plan.

" _I've been workin' on the rail-road, all the live-long day. I've been workin' on the rail-road, just to pass the time a-way,_ " it's an easy melody, simple lyrics and he knows he can sing it and think twenty different things at the same time and not lose the words.

O'Malley's less impressed, and Steve sings through the shots to his gut as best he can, wheezes out words between coughs. It's painful and trying, but Steve fixes the notes and words to the back of his mind, letting his mind continue the song without him. What he needs is something to make O'Malley furious enough to kill him, but stupid enough to do it badly enough that he won't be dead.

What he needs is a fuckin Hail Mary.

 _No, what you_ need _, **Steven** , is to get your goddamned head examined._ Steve smiles at the Danny in his head.

 _No arguments, Danno,_ Steve thinks back. No fucking arguments at all.

They go at it a few more rounds- O'Malley spicing things up by adding a few gut-shots to the monotony of jaw and chin strikes- before that famous Irish temper spikes again and Steve finds himself and his chair being dragged to the bathroom.

This can be nothing good.

Because, really, there are only so many reasons to go to a bathroom. A smaller-than-the-livingroom-they-were-in-before bathroom. In fact, once Steve sees the tiled floor and the drain in the center, that list of many reasons narrows down to exactly one.

Clean up.

So, yes, Steve is screwed, in a big, fat, permanent way, and this doesn't change one bit when O'Malley twists on the tap in the bath, plugs the train and leans up against the sink, smirking.

Steve's been watching how O'Malley flips that knife, over and over, blade glinting in the light, reflecting off his bared, smirking teeth, so he's really not surprised when O'Malley and his knife come closer. In fact, he's ready and waiting, especially when O'Malley goes for the duct-tape around his wrists rather than the skin of his forearms.

The blow to the back of his head, however, is unexpected.

He's still shaking stars out of his eyes as O'Malley chirps in that annoying, lilting accent, "You know, I heard that all yeh SEALies can hold yeh breath for five minutes. Anna wonder what your best time was, McGarret? Canna get you up to six? Or seven? Maybe ten?"

The water's _so fucking cold_ it takes the last bit of his remaining sense and all of his training not to gasp in the water and end this all too fast.

He's in the water, thrashing but trying not to thrash, because you use up your air faster that way. But he's trying not to, even though it's so hard and the water's cold and it stings his eyes, so he tries to get away, but he shouldn't because he'll use up his air. He has to hold on, has to not use up his air, because Chin and Kono and Danny _Danny_ \- of the stupid ties and that hair and who in god's name wears a button-up in Hawai'i?- are waiting for him and he can't use up all his air. His team will get him out.

He just has to not use up all his-

Not use up-

Not-

his air

he needs to

don't

hold on

needs to

needs

air

And he's choking up water, lungs aching and someone's rolling him onto his side and then-

"That's it, babe. Come on, it's okay, come on, deep breaths, Steve."

-Danny at his side (front?), rubbing his back through his soaked shirt. And god, his lungs _**hurt**_ , but he follows Danny's instructions, takes a deep breath until the ache becomes skin-blistering agony and he coughs and keeps on coughing, until he's spat the last of the water out of his mouth onto the floor with the drain and the pretty blue tiles and maybe on Danny's nice pants- seriously, who wears slacks in Hawai'i?- but Danny's pants are already wet so it doesn't really matter.

There's an exploratory poke at his head that makes him wince and Danny curses, long and low, before he turns about to shout out the door behind him, "Chin! I think he's got a concussion; call a bus!"

Steve would hear the answering "On it!" but his face is freezing and it's hard to focus on anything besides the sudden need to throw up, and he gets to the "Danno, gonna throw-" before he's scrambling to his knees and trying for the toilet in the corner, but he only makes it half a foot from Danny before his stomach revolts.

And god, he knows where that word came from now, because that is seriously _revolting_.

But Danny stays with him the entire time, and Steve thinks that might've been him in the back of the ambulance, but he's cold and it's really sort of fuzzy, and no way could Danno be that quiet for all that time. But when he wakes up, Danno's there, worried and frumpled and-

What the hell. How does he even know that word.

He groans, more in exasperation that his partner's annoying word habits have somehow imposed themselves on his mental landscape (he almost mouths _mental landscape_ , because, really), but Danny goes from asleep and frumpled to awake and frumpled and worried, saying, "Babe, that you? Oh, thank god. They couldn't get you to wake up on the bus and it's been three days and you just wouldn't wake up and me and Chin were having- ok, mostly Kono- but we were- god, are you in pain? Here, babe, I'll call a nurse-"

And Danny's dashing back disappears out the doors and Steve-

All Steve can do is laugh.


End file.
